The Hotel Wawanakwa
by Minako25
Summary: In the spirit of the paranormal reality show, Chris brings the 23 contestants of Total Drama to an abandoned "haunted" hotel. But the drama goes beyond just staged spooks and scares when real lost spirits in the hotel come out to play.
1. Chapter 1

THE HOTEL WAWANAKWA: Part One

On an average day for the _average_ person, it might be a little disconcerting to find oneself in a strange abandoned building, unconscious on the floor. Panic and dread would follow your awakening, with paranoia and a million questions overloading your brain. This wasn't the case for 23 still unaware teens, haphazardly sleeping on the floor and various pieces of furniture in what appeared to be a lobby. This was just the beginning of another dramatic day, under the sadistically cruel wing of host Chris Maclean.

The creak of a door opening, hinges almost rusted through, and the echo of footsteps signaled the first sign of activity in the lobby. Briskly, almost enthusiastically the steps made their way to the mess of bodies, passing by a dusty and worn reception desk. Embellishing the once rich maple colored desk, hung the remains of the establishments title, mostly unreadable except for the word: HOTEL.

Beyond the dirty, shattered windows, the sun was setting just as the first of the teens began to rise from their drug induced nap. The crunching of dead leaves snapped awake one of the young girls, who's hand clenched tightly around her dearest friend's hand. Her dark brown eyes instantly targeted the pair making their way to the center of the lobby. One, a roguishly handsome man in his mid-thirties and second, an imposing dark skinned man, wearing a bloodied apron and a deep scowl.

Sitting up, her recent awakening did not go unnoticed by witty Chris, who playfully put his finger to his lips to hush her. In his other hand he held onto a bullhorn, the sight of which made the sizeable woman urgently shake the thin Samoan girl besides her.

"Katie! Katie! Wake up!"

"Mng," Katie dryly mumbled in her haze, "Sadie? We there yet?"

"Oh, we're here alright," Sadie confirmed, pulling her friend up into a sitting position.

Any other sleepy questions that remained were drowned out by the ear-splitting blare of foghorn being amplified through a bullhorn.

Immediately bodies began to spring up from their resting places, the lobby echoing with startled gasps, curses and outright screams. Those placed haphazardly on sheet covered chairs, clumsily knocked their seats over. Another of the rudely awakened teens tumbled off a couch she was laid across with a loud thud and torrent of curses. Many of the teens looked ready to and willing to fight, others ready to flee the scene. Still, despite the clamor, the sadistic cackling of Chris and Chef Hatchet could still be heard.

"I shoulda known," snarled Leshawna as she was helped to stand by Harold and Bridgette. Her mocha skinned face glowed red with anger, and from when she smacked her head into the floor.

"Good morning kiddies," Chris beamed, brazenly pleased with himself, "Or should I say, good evening?"

The hues of dusk sprinkled the inside of the lobby through cloudy windows, hallowing the grinning man and further disorienting the group. Lindsay's bright blue eyes squinted beyond the familiar host, dusting off what looked like years of dust from her orange skirt. Her questioning stare voiced a dozen important questions, but her lips asked the trivial one instead, "Ummm, this doesn't look like the concert hall."

"That's cuz it's not," he lowly chuckled again.

"Ugh, isn't it obvious, he tricked us… again," scoffed Heather from a far corner of the lobby, "I don't know what's wrong with us to ever trust Chris Maclean. The party, the concert hall, the recognition… it was all a scam… for whatever 'this' is."

"Thanks for being obvious, Heather. But I guess it's a great segway into why you're here." For dramatic effect, he gave the group a moment to collect themselves. Almost meticulously, he watched them gather themselves, Tyler went to Lindsay's side, and they were soon accompanied by short and stout Beth. Geoff held tightly on to his lady love Bridgette, while BFF's Katie and Sadie took each other's hand for comfort as the waited in anticipation. High pitched squeals from Sierra echoed throughout the room as she worried over Cody, who persisted that he was fine on his own.

Wedge heels stomped annoyingly loud towards the center of the group as Courtney shot daggers towards Gwen, Duncan and Trent. Trent was unfortunately just in the wrong place at the wrong time, attempting to help Gwen steady herself at the same time as Duncan. The trio had an awkward moment of apologies before Trent conceded, backing away from the petite Goth girl.

Fiery red-head Izzy seemed to be the least affected by the situation as she tip-toed past Owen, who somehow had remained sound asleep. She seemed to be studying the higher architecture of the building interior, for her own peculiar reasoning. The remaining players, DJ, Alejandro, Justin, and Eva stood their ground, watching Chris impatiently.

"Welcome to the Hotel Wawanakwa, the most haunted and abandoned lodging in all of Ontario. By now, I'm sure you've already realized that the cast reunion was a fake and that I may or may not have drugged you on the bus ride." Expectantly, he laughed at his own plotting, than frowned deeply as Owen snorted loudly.

"Guess you over did it with the big guy, Chef. Anyway! I've invited everyone back for a very special challenge. You see, back in its heyday, this was one of the most luxurious and profitable establishments in the province. But because of some unexplained phenomenon, _and building code violations_, they shut the doors in the late 80s. Rumor has it; the tortured, horribly… gruesomely murdered souls of past residents still haunt the halls of this hotel, cursing it to failure. That's where the 22 of you… 23, no…"

The gears in Chris' brain visibly began to strain as he silently pointed to count each of the teens in front of him. He looked up towards Chef, mumbling, "We missing one?"

The larger man shrugged indifferently. Chris scratched at his stubble thoughtfully, and Eva surprisingly perked up, loosening her crossed arms. With a swift kick of her navy sneaker, she kicked the still slumbering Owen, effectively rolling him over and revealing Noah's twisted up form underneath.

"God! What took you so long woman?" The muscled brunette barely flinched as she wrenched the scrawny young man up from the ground, flinging him across the floor behind her.

"Where was I? Oh yeah. Today, you kids will be on a little treasure hunt, because hidden somewhere within this hotel, is another case of another million dollars! First one to the case takes it all or you can attempt to team up and split the winnings… if you can. Sound easy? Maybe not, because there's still the unresolved issue of," for effect, Chris dropped his voice a notch, "the murdered souls of this hotel."

Chris mewed pleasantly to himself as the beginnings of fear formed on a few faces. Still there were skeptic remaining like Duncan, Heather and Gwen that simply rolled their eyes at his antics. Chef let out an exasperated breath when he noticed Izzy pop her head out from behind the reception desk and almost appeared: giddy.

Brave resolve only lasted a moment more when the sound of a pipe clattered loudly from down a hall, followed by bewailing moans. The twins screeched aloud while they latched onto one another as approaching footsteps echoed down the hall. Tyler took up a brave fighting stance, behind Lindsay and Beth who had taken to hugging each other for support. From opposite sides of the lobby, Alejandro looked doubtful, and Heather, simply looked annoyed.

From beyond the hallway, a grotesquely pale form crept into the reception area, still moaning and groaning loudly with each dragged out step. Chef frowned even deeper as his dark eyes rolled, while the host face palmed in annoyance. Approaching at snail speed before and below them was a small girl around the age of ten. She donned an outfit more suitable for a 50's musical, and was covered head to toe in white powder and red stain. It was instantly clear that she was acting the part of an undead resident of the hotel. Gwen sudden outburst of laugh summed up the fact that no one was impressed and scared anymore.

"You weren't supposed to come out yet!" Chris hollered towards the young girl, but a quick glare from Chef Hatchet quelled much of the host's anger.

"Oh," she blinked innocently as Chef towered besides her, slinging her carefully over his shoulder. The frustrated host grumbled something about firing some interns under his breath as the little actress and Chef disappeared down the hallway.

"You can't be serious," Gwen snorted, attempting to hide her smile.

"Hey, I'd watch out for that one, she's an ankle biter… really. And since she ruined the suspense I was building, and some of the mystery, I'll give you the cliff notes version. Your job is to find the case of money and win the game, but be warned there will be obstacles in the way. Also, you may eliminate your competition if you choose. You'll do that by 'tagging' the other players with paint guns," from his back pocket, Chris revealed a small derringer sized pistol for an example. "The number of paint guns and other obstacles in this game will be an unknown. There could be 23, one for each of you, or there could only be one. These can only be used on fellow players, cuz' y'know it's not fun otherwise."

Pausing again, Chris allowed a moment to soak in what he'd said, also giving an opportunity for one of the sound men to run up behind him and whisper. His dark brow furrowed as he carefully listened, and other contestants began to whispering to each other as well. Duncan leaned back towards Gwen to quietly announce, "First chance I get, I'm bailing."

"Count me in. There's no way he can keep us here." Gwen agreed, noting that their host was finishing up.

"So, I'm told we're only allowing 22 of you to compete in this challenge."

"I'll go," Duncan volunteered within a heartbeat. Even so, as the delinquent attempted to march out towards the front door, Chris reached up to close line him and thwarts his escape.

"Not so fast. My show. My pick." The two men stared dangerously at each other, before the pierced juvenile returned obediently to his spot by Gwen. Chris returned to scrutinizing the cast of teens, pointing with his finger as he chanted, "Eenie, menie, minie… Justin."

All eyes fell upon the teenage model as his handsome blue eyes widened in confusion, "What? Why me?"

"Because, this show can only have one pretty face," Chris arrogantly proclaimed.

"But Alejandro…" Justin earnestly began when Chris fired the compact derringer still in his grasp. Screams and startled gasps resonated in the room as the pistol exploded color across the protesting man's chest, splattering up his chin. The force of the impact sent Justin off balance, careening back while gripping his "wounded" chest. Chris' resolve remained firm as everyone looked from him to Justin, back to him and one last time at Justin.

"There, you've been officially eliminated," Chris turned his back to the mass, replacing the pistol into his back pocket. All watched expectantly on the spot where Justin fell, Sadie nearly fainted from the suspense. A cough of pain pushed out from his lungs, before he finally pushed himself up, whipping florescent pink paint from his face.

No real words of comfort were shared as Justin stood up, and proceeded somberly towards the front door. With the young model exiting the Hotel the first elimination of the game was complete.


	2. Chapter 2

THE HOTEL WAWANAKWA: Part TWO

Ten minutes after Justin left the premises and Chris speedily (well vaguely actually) explained the remaining details of the latest Total Drama challenge. The host excused himself down a hall, clicking a remote control over his head before disappearing. It became clear moments later what the remote did when Duncan stormed towards the front entrance to find it locked tight. The pierced teen commented it "unusual" that such a decrepit hotel had such tight security before joining sides with Gwen. Their fingers curled together discretely by their sides, but even so Courtney couldn't miss the gesture, even from 20 feet away.

Left to strategize amongst themselves, groups quickly formed to begin the hunt for the hidden prize money. Tyler, Lindsay, Beth, Katie and Sadie all headed upstairs towards the guest rooms with Tyler as the leader. Leshawna pooled together Harold, DJ and Trent to explore the ballrooms and dining area on the main level. Owen still hadn't woken up from his sedation, blissfully unaware of Izzy's poking and prodding of his rotund form. Aftermath Host's Geoff and Bridgette along with Duncan and Gwen choose to search the many guest rooms above too, passing by Courtney lingering at the staircase. Here eyes glared daggers as the Punk and Goth couple passed, grumbling something about the building falling on top of their treacherous heads.

Meanwhile, watching the exchange like a hawk, debonair Alejandro scrutinized the young C.I.T. with interest. His opportunity to partner with the driven woman was momentarily lost when Sierra and Cody cheerfully approached her. So instead, Alejandro turned to the isolated raven beauty Heather. A dashing smile crossed his lips, "Well, it looks like you and I shall…"

"Team up?" she scoffed, her short ponytail whipping across his nose, "Not likely. If I'm going to play, I'm playing for myself."

The Hispanic teen considered her with a neutral expression as she hurried off towards the green oxidized elevator. Pressing the worn call button repetitively, the elevator doors finally dinged and began to creak open. Heather slid herself into the opening as quickly as she could, wondering if she would regret getting onto the degenerated lift. The only indications that the contraption still functioned was the floor level dial above the doors, and the fact it arrived at all.

As the doors whined shut, Heather mockingly called out to her crafty rival, "Besides, you'll just slow me down!"

At the stairs, Sierra was offering Courtney the opportunity to join up with Cody and herself. At first, the C.I.T. didn't seem to notice the bubbly fan-girl, but after a second attempt she replied coldly, "Join your team? Sorry but, why would I team up with a crazy and a loser?"

"Because everyone else has already left, silly. Well, except for them," Sierra gleefully corrected herself as she glanced over at Owen, Izzy, Noah and Eva, "but like, you can't break up Team E-scope plus Owen."

A bronze hand lightly touched over Sierra's glossy lips to silence her, "Yeah, I think I'm alright on my own."

"Sierra's just trying to be nice," Cody's voice admonished.

"Whatever. Nice doesn't win a million dollars," Courtney chided as she strutted off towards the dusty reception desk. Her brown eyes intently scanned over the yellowed papers, crusty books and scattered envelops littering surface. She dipped down to examine the shelves below filled with binders, receipts, and other documents. Spying a book with the hotel's logo on it, Courtney carefully slide it free, and a cloud of dust with it.

Squinting her eyes shut, she blindly waved the years of dirt particles away, gagging and choking on the filth. When the dust "cleared" Courtney was unpleasantly surprised to see another cast member rifling through the desk now.

"What are you doing?" she swiftly demanded of Noah.

"Probably the same as you. Looking for a hotel directory, map or something."

"I was here first."

"Whatever, it's a free country," Noah dryly shrugged, even when she tried to push him away.

"No it's a country that says, 'I was here first'."

"I don't need to keep it, I just wanted to get an idea of this place."

"Fine," Courtney finally caved as they located the hotel guide.

The pair of teens intently studied the hotel's layout, easily ignoring the startled cries of Owen who'd finally been roused from his nap. Izzy cackled at her unconventional victory, her methods leaving Owen rolling around on the floor in pain, "Not the kiwis!"

Eva also managed to ignore their antics, standing off on her own, her amber eyes blankly staring. It was normal to see her with arms crossed and a deep scowl, but somehow she seemed even more distant from the others. It wasn't until Noah announced his success that she was brought back to the world around her.

"Got it!" he monotonously crowed as he regrouped with the other three, leaving Courtney to wander off on her own mission.

"So, what's going on here? Where are we anyway?" Owen inquired, obviously the last to know.

"Challenge. Million Dollars. Sadistic Host. You'll figure it out as we go," Noah assured him before explaining the buildings layout. Six floors, about 20 rooms on each floor, a basement and other amenities about the hotel. Following the layout, he'd deduced the best plan was to start from the bottom and work up. Also because no other groups went that way, or they didn't even realize their was a basement.

"Oh, basement! I bet that's where they stored the bodies!" Izzy beamed.

"Bodies? What bodies?" Owen started.

"Don't listen to crazy. There are no bodies," Noah motioned for everyone to follow. The theme from "Tales from the Crypt" started to whistle from Izzy's lips as she prodded Owen onward, but Eva remained stationary in the lobby.

"Uhhh, She-Hulk," the bookworm hesitated as he analyzed the gruff woman, "You look kind of… um… pale… maybe even green. You feeling alright there?"

"What? I'm fine! Stop pestering me!" the short tempered woman erupted past the less muscular man. His own expression darkened as she stormed ahead and he rubbed his shoulder from where she'd shoved him aside. He sighed "whatever" before following after.

Past the lobby and a short distance down a side hallway, the quartet lingered at the entrance to the basement. No one seemed to want to be the one to turn the rusty doorknob, especially with Izzy moaning and whispering ghoulishly in the background. Eva growled menacingly at the red head, but that failed to curb her eccentricities. Sighing heavily, as if bracing himself, Noah finally pulled open the door, practically using it to shield himself just in case. The rest of the rabble backed away too, cautiously peering down into the dark abyss.

With another deep breath, the brains of the crew entered the basement, the rest huddled closely behind. As smart as Noah was, he couldn't figure out how he'd become the head of the charge this time, especially when Izzy seemed pleased as punch to explore the creepy basement. Even Eva would have been a better leader into the cold, damp, dark underground, but she was currently crossing her arms so tightly that her nails were digging into her skin. He wouldn't give her away, but he was positive she was scared… of something.

The basement was a teeth chattering ballet of shadows, spider webs and dirt. It reeked of must and damp earth, and the only light was the buzzing hum of weak fluorescents overhead. Thankfully Chris was powering the place, otherwise they'd be hopelessly stumbling around in the dark for the hidden prize. At one side was the entrance to the exercise room, and a boarded up salon. A small bar and game room resided down a hall on the other side, but it was the EMPLOYEES ONLY door that drew Noah's attention.

Owen quickly questioned why they weren't looking in the game room or anywhere else first as the skinny geek pushed on the locked door. His questions ignored, Noah instead called for Eva's attention asking if she could force open the locked door. She grumbled, "probably," before aggressively throwing her weight into the door once than twice before the old lock gave way. Dust clouded the doorway and dozen of insects scurried away from their disturbed lair. A blast of cold surrounded the teens, none like they'd ever felt. The released air rushed by, screaming in their ears like fingers across a chalkboard.

"Y'know, there's probably nothing down here," Owen began, breathing heavily.

"There's nothing dead down here. What are you so afraid of? Mice?" Noah offered.

"You know my great Aunt Mildred was a ghost whisperer," Izzy suddenly interrupted, having no bearing on the conversation at hand, "I'm totally in tuned with the supernatural."

"Can someone shut her up?" Eva implored.

"Just ignore her, there are no ghosts," Noah sighed, slumping his shoulders.

"As soon as we got here, I could hear them. Chris doesn't know the truth… this place it totally haunted…"

"Izzy!" Noah snapped turning around to see the blabbering redhead's face completely warped in shadow. For a moment all of them jump at the sight, realizing a second later that she's just found a flashlight to play with. The light shined harshly under her chin, creating skeletal shadows around her face. Utterly frustrated, Noah snatched the flashlight away from the deranged girl, snarling, "Give me that."

"What?" Izzy innocently questioned.

Flashlight in hand, Noah marched forward into the off limits section. The controls for the electric, water, the laundry and all sorts of other utilities lay mostly in ruin beyond the door. By the looks of some shotty repair work, the hotel had been in ruin long before it closed. A fine layer of mist laced the floor and the smell of burnt plastic filled their noses. The curling mist didn't seem to deter Noah at all as he purposefully shined the beam on the walls, floor and ceiling. He was hoping for any signs of recent disturbance, but all he found was a rat dashing away from his light and graffiti written on the walls by some squatters.

"Get out," Noah snorted as he read one written in blood red paint, "Cute."

"Maybe we should listen to the wall," Owen suggested.

"Fine. Go do whatever," Noah motioned the large blonde to leave, shinning his light up into the pipes above.

"Great! Who's with me?" Owen's relieved smile returned to dread when no one volunteered to return to the main level with him. He looked pleadingly towards Izzy, who was staring up at the wall humming X-Files now, and he didn't dare make eye contact with Eva.

Immediately, Owen reversed his decision, "You know, maybe I'll stay with the rest of you after all."

"There it is," Noah abruptly announced, reaching behind a water tank.

"You found the case!" Eva practically cried relief.

"No, just the fog machine."

Everyone became crestfallen as their leader pointed towards a novelty fog machine cranking out the eerie fog across the cement floor. Eva growled lowly as she followed her foot through the small machine and into the wall ahead.

"This is such a waste of time!" Eva threw her hands up as she stomped away.

"This is just Chris's theatrics. We're in the right place if Chris is setting up cheap props."

"This would be the place to stash it." Izzy agreed tapping her chin.

"Ha ha. That Chris sure is a funny guy," Owen meekly assured himself, "Is it getting colder down here?"

"It must be disturbed. Angry that we're here."

"Izzy! Will you shut up already?" Eva barked.

"Eva, chill. This is normal." Noah insisted, walking towards the body building woman.

Exasperated, Eva threw her head back to growl again. Her outburst didn't erupt as expected, and instead she curiously studied the piles and wood braces above.

"What's that?" she inquired, pointing towards a lump of fabric within the framework.

"What's what?" Noah glanced up as Izzy and Owen joined from behind.

As if on cue the object in question came tumbling down in a mess of dust and debris. The sudden movement startled Team E-Scope plus Owen, but the sudden stop and limp dangling swing of the object horrified them. Immediately they recognized it as a human body covered in deep red stains head to toe. Four screams shattered the silence of the frigidly cold basement as they scrambled away from the twisted corpse.


	3. Chapter 3

THE HOTEL WAWANAKWA: Part THREE

The lifeless body swung like a pendulum before Team E-Scope, their horrified screams echoing throughout the hollowed, empty halls of the hotel above. Without a second thought, Owen and Izzy shoved and yanked at each other for the lead to escape. As they pushed towards the creaky old stairway, they barely noticed when they shoved pass Alejandro, who'd been lurking in the doorway. After watching them loudly struggle out the door, the basement became eerily silent. Everyone floor of the old lodging was now deathly quiet, except for the delighted cackles and calls of two malevolent hosts.

In an unspecified location, Chris and Chef relaxed comfortably while viewing a wall of video feeds. Leaning back, Chef Hatchet nearly tumbled out of his chair, his deep chuckle reverberating in his throat. Likewise, Chris held his sides in his own amusement, barely able to breath, "I can't believe... I can't believe they fell for it!"

"Ha. Ha. They're gonna be so mad at you," grinned Chef, his dark eyes screwed shut.

"Don't I know it," Chris inhaled deeply to compose himself. He eagerly gazed back at the CRT monitors monitoring the basement activity. However, his features fell grim as he straightened his posture.

Fizzling white snow and flashes of white interrupted the once clear view of the basement. Chris reached out to tap the screen, but quickly reeled back when the screen was filled with nothing by hazy snow and a steady hissing. He glanced to his co-host who could only shrug unknowingly at the sudden technical difficulties before them.

With a snarl, the host supreme reached for a walkie-talkie, interrogating staff stationed in the with the four teens, "Hey, what happened down there?"

No answer.

"Dude, do you read me? I lost the basement video? What're you doing down there?"

This time, a static filled squawk responded, however unintelligible to both men. Chef finally waved it off as a minor technicality before focusing his attention to the first floor cameras. One camera bounced steadily down the hallway, the cameraman following after the quintet of Tyler, Lindsay, Beth, Katie and Sadie.

It stopped at room 113, and at first glance, the room appeared vacant. Gingerly the camera panned the room, focusing first on the single bed. Underneath dusty, yellowed covers shake a pair of terrified lumps, obviously Katie and Sadie. At the far end of the room, Beth cowered behind a shredded red curtain that didn't even conceal her shaking knees. In the bathroom near the entrance, high heel boots clanked nosily in the porcelain bathtub. Lindsay had pressed herself firmly to the wall of the curtain-less tub, tightly covering her own eyes. That only left Tyler and the last hiding place left the closet. The cameraman reached to open the sliding door and reveal the cowardly jock.

From underneath off white covers, Katie squeaked, "Is is safe yet?"

"I don't know. Do you wanna check?" Sadie pulled to covers tighter to her face.

"No, do you?"

"No. Should we check together?"

"Okay. On Three."

The duet of best friends didn't get to begin their countdown before a tumble and crash from within the bathroom startled them both out of the bed. Quickly all four contestants crowd into the tiny bathroom as Lindsay cries out in pain. She lays helplessly crooked in the tub, holding her side and her head in discomfort.

"Lindsay you okay?" Tyler inquired, pulling his lovely lady out of her predicament.

"I just slipped. I was going to turn the water on so the zombies couldn't hear me."

Sighing audibly, Beth gently takes her friends other hand, "Lynds, you know there is no such thing as zombies."

"But what about the little girl zombie?"

"That was just makeup."

"That was some horrible makeup than," Lindsay gasped.

"Like tell me about it," Sadie agreed.

"Oh hey!" abruptly Katie chimed in, reaching for a brightly colored item behind the toilet. Standing upright, the bubbly teen held a replica sawed-off shot gun, accented in neon orange paint. She closed one eye to peer down the sight, aiming right at her team. Instinctively, all members threw up their hands up in defense, weather she planned to fire or not.

"What's wrong?" she asked naively, lowering the paint gun.

Outside of room 113, leaning silently against the wall stands a man with red hair, and broken glasses. He wears torn jeans, a bloodied black shirt and a pound of pale green makeup. Quietly, the "zombie" inched away from Team Tyler, reaching behind his jeans for a small black radio. Lowly he squawked into the device, "Anything yet?"

"Anything what?" a female voice responded.

"Anything on your floor yet? Anyone?" he attempted again almost hissing his question.

"I don't know. I'm just sitting around twirling my hair, waiting for our cue. Are you out of position Luca?"

"No," Zombie Luca defended, inching down the hallway a little faster.

"You're totally out of position. Chris is so going to fire you!"

"Shut it Skye!" the zombie-fied intern growled back.

"Fifth floor," a third male voice interrupted, "Aftermath host Bridgette is on the fifth floor. Over."

"Damn it! Thanks." the eager intern responded before bee lining for the stairwell.

Meanwhile after all the commotion, the basement remained a silent graveyard. Noah quietly shuffled across the uneven concrete floor, having come out of hiding a while ago. He'd dared to look at the body hanging from the ceiling, to find it full of straw and stuffing. Groaning in annoyance, he took a swing at the "corpse" causing it to swing around wildly and knock back into him. Chris Mclean had successfully set them up with a cheap dollar store prop and effectively scared the life out of all of them.

This left Noah with the duty of recollecting the members of his "team." He was certain he'd heard Owen thunder up the stairs, but he wasn't sure if Izzy was with him, or still in the basement. It would be just like the outgoing redhead to jump out from a corner to scare him again with a laugh. Remaining on guard, that just left musclewoman Eva, whom he was positive hadn't exited the basement.

Reaching the end of the basement, the bookworm finally spotted the team member in question, huddled behind a knocked over table and some stacked up chairs for storage. The normally tough as nails teen remained quiet and still as he approached, her hands over her ears and eyes shut tight.

"Eva," he called but she clearly doesn't hear him. Cautiously Noah reached to tap her on the shoulder, but also prepared himself to flee in case she lashed out. Briefly but firmly he touched her, backing up as her head snapped up and eyes flew open. It took a moment for her to register Noah's presence before she lets her arms fall limply at her side.

"It was a fake," he offered, "a dollar store scarecrow."

Eva's brown eyes fall to the floor, as if halfheartedly saying, "Oh?"

"No dead bodies, nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared of dead bodies!" Eva abruptly roared. He threw his hands up in defense, causing his teammate soften slightly. "Are we done with this basement?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Let's go back upstairs."

Wordlessly the awkward pair exits the dingy basement. As they passed by a section of the crumbling brick and cement wall, it began to darken in color. Liquid steadily leaked out the cracks, but neither noticed blood mysteriously flowing down the wall.

Elsewhere, Leshawna's team scrutinized every inch of the once elegant main ballroom for the prize money. Leshawna and Harold examined the stage, looking in every corner and under every board they could move. **DJ shuffled across the room, scraps of paper and leaves crunching underfoot. He bent low to look under broken chairs and tables, discovering instead a lot of dead bugs and a mouse.** On the outskirts of the room, Trent opted to drag a chair around with to reach even higher. Overhead were rather large and heavily decorated air vents, some of which moved and opened quite easily. He also paused to examine the large vases that once contained beautiful plants, now sparsely littered with dirt.

"I got nothing," Leshawna's voice echoed loudly in the empty hall.

"Zilch," Harold confirmed, finishing checking underneath the stage.

"I'm gonna go check the kitchen, baby," the large woman announced, quickly followed by the thinner red head.

"Hey wait, I'll come help," Harold's long lanky legs easily catch up to her.

Inside the claustrophobically small kitchen, only the light of the connecting rooms shined within. Both teens fumbled around blindly for any switch or cord to illuminate the kitchen. However every switch and knob they found ended in a powerless dud.

"Really Chris? How're we supposed to find anything in here?" exasperated Leshawna.

Her sandaled feet tentatively slide across the floor to not stub her toe on a counter or stove in the pitch blackness. She froze dead in her tracks when her senses alerted her to something soft and approximately tennis ball sized. Pulling back, she softly crashed into Harold, claiming, "Y'know maybe it's better if I can't see."

Placing his hands on her shoulder, Harold never gets to ask her what she meant when a bright orange flame erupted next to them. The lanky nerd jumped and screamed like a girl as the industrial stove raged to life. Leshanwa's shoulders slumped as her man practically crawled up her backside like a spooked cat. The stovetop flames gradually began to sputter on and off in a pattern, revealing it to be nothing more than a cheap scare tactic prank.

Nearby, in the contented small restaurant, Courtney's own quest was interrupted by the commotion and orange glow in the kitchen. She resigned herself to be unimpressed by every loud noise and bright light for the remainder of the night. A future top notch lawyer as herself would never be done in by cheap pranks and cheesy plots.

Confidently she approached the restaurant's entrance to the kitchen, at the same moment that someone else was exiting the kitchen. Stealing herself for whatever or whoever was entering the restaurant, Courtney immediately relaxed when the little girl Cleo, from earlier, appeared. Like earlier in the evening, she moaned as she lumbered forwards, drooling from her mouth and one leg dragging the floor. In her hand she toted along a meat cleaver, previously stained with prop blood.

Courtney rolled her brown eyes, sighing heavily and crossing her arms, clearly unimpressed. The small child paused, taking on a more normal stance seeing her "victim" is completely unfazed.

"Hello? Little Zombie Girl? Hatchet? Nothing?" she questioned as she waved the hatchet.

Courtney just shrugged with a smirk on her lips.

"You know if I catch you, I can put you in lock up which means you're out of the game."

"Chris never said anything like that," the bossy teen quickly doubted this new information. However, as if on queue a ding sounded throughout the halls and Chris Mclean's voice echoed over an intercom.

"Attention contestants. The Zombies have now been released into the game. Just a heads up, if you are caught, you're out. At least for the time being. So don't get caught!"

A well known chuckle ended the announcement to the contestants and for a moment Zombie Cleo and Courtney stared each other down in silence.

With an impish little smile, the miniature zombie raised her weapon in the air and screamed her charging attack. Despite her promise to herself, the teenager screamed as bolted out of the restaurant and back towards the lobby. Just steps behind, her zombie stalker chased her, swinging her hatchet enthusiastically. Knocking over a chair to stall the child, Courtney chided her assailant, "Shouldn't zombies be slow and brainless?"

Courtney dared a look back to see that Cleo had paused to think about it, giving her an opportunity to throw open the door to the stairwell.

Skipping every other step, the C.I.T. skipped pass the first floor to the second. She smiled at the sight of the elevator, deciding to take it to the top floor. Hand outstretched for the button, Courtney barely reached the lift when her balance abandons her. The ragged carpet quickly approaches her head, and she barely has the time to catch herself.

In shock, she stays frozen on the ground for what seems an eternity, breathing shallowly, holding herself up shaking hands. Finally she moved, her left hand grazing her face, smearing blood from her lip to her fingertips. Carefully pushing up, Courtney used a dusty old glass framed painting's reflection to examine herself. She stares intently at her cheek and lip, puffing up from being struck, but by what? Touching the wound to be sure it's real; she winced when it certainly stings like a real bruise.

Almost in a panic, Courtney whirled around; looking at the closed door next to her, down the hall and back to where she'd came from. She's positive she's alone in the dimly lit hallway. The young woman is completely alone on the second floor, but she's also positive she felt someone or something backhand her. Undoubtedly Courtney has the bruise and bloodied lip to prove it. Growing a little beyond "freaked out" she started to back up, her heel knocking into something heavy on the floor. Underfoot lay a small black **revolver**, scratched and worn from time and use. With a little hesitation, she scopes up the small weapon in her hand, at first remembering that there would be paintball guns hidden throughout the premise.

Eyes narrowed, Courtney examines the gun further, releasing the cylinder from its lock to reveal at least 3 bullets loaded within. The more she studied it, the more real the gun appeared. But why? Why would Chris leave them a real weapon she thought to herself before asking aloud, "What is Chris thinking?"


	4. Chapter 4

THE HOTEL WAWANAKWA: Part Four

A red sneaker lashes out and into a paint worn door, kicking it open with a jarring bang. Splinters of wood and the patina chain that locked it scatter into the cold, vacant room. The violent commotion quickly dies down as the same red sneaker holds the door ajar and a thin, pale girl slithers into the room. Silvery blue eyes smile at the young woman as she gently runs her hand across her partners back.

"Are you trying to wake the dead, Duncan?" Gwen chides, barely looking back so as to conceal her own devious smile.

"Let Chris's lackey's come. I'm not afraid of little girls in bad makeup." Duncan scoffed before looking at her girlfriend's doubtful glare, "present company excluded."

A quick laugh followed from her ebony painted lips, "Wait. Does that mean my makeup is bad… or that I'm a little girl?"

"Well," Duncan smirks, pulling his Goth Queen a little closer to himself, "You're definitely not a little girl."

The pair draw closer to one another, able to feel their heated breath on each other's skin. Their lips only inches away from a gentle kiss until Duncan abruptly pulled away. A disappointed whimper escaped Gwen's lips, prompting a hasty explanation from Duncan, "If we start this… we're never getting anywhere. We already lost Geoff and Bridgette and I give it another ten minutes before they're eliminated."

"I know." Gwen conceded, opening the closet to begin searching for the hidden prize money and/or weapons to thin the competition. Likewise Duncan made quick work of tearing off the already hole filled mattress for anything hidden underneath.

After a thorough turning over of another room, the duo move onto the next room of the hotel. Yellowed paper and debris crunch underfoot as Duncan shifts his weight to deliver another mighty kick to the locked door. Mid-kick, Gwen diverts his attention, requesting a much gentler, less destructive and noisy tactic. With a disappointed sigh, Duncan jiggles the handle of the suite to find out that this door wasn't locked at all.

The room blows out a decades long sigh into their hair, kicking up debris and dust held long within. Gwen sheilds her face from the stale breeze and sheet of old newspaper that blows into her chest. Inside, air continues to whip around wildly in the room, disturbing the single curtain at the window and the remnants of wallpaper peeling away.

"Who left the window open," Duncan chides moving towards the open window.

Peeling the brittle newsprint from herself, Gwen inquisitively examined the antique paper, searching for a date.

"October, 1959..." she reads softly, approaching Duncan, "Guest Drowns Spouse. The sixth reported murder the establishment has seen in a decade. One employee quotes that this hotel is certainly cursed, but that's what you get for building on sacred burial ground."

Before she can recite anymore highlights on the hotel's gruesome past, rough hands reach out to tear the paper from her. Gwen starts, a defiant scowl on her face as Duncan crumples up the paper to chuck it out the window.

"That was rude."

"Come on, don't waste our time with Chris's bullshit. You know he's probably got a hundred copies of that planted all over the joint to try and lure us in."

"Yeah, well I was still looking at it." Gwen frowned, following Duncan towards the next room.

"Hey! I was still looking at that," an almost child-like male voice complained as dark fingers wrench a notebook from his hands. Greedy eyes flipped through a scrapbook collection of news clippings, awards and other miscellany. Sierra sweetly apologized, forgetting how much taller she was than her companion, now on his tip toes trying to view the book.

"Sorry Cody-honey, I just got really excited to see what "evidence" Chris left for us."

"You really think Chris would do all this?" Cody inquires, feeling the chalky texture of the old newsprint and craft paper, "This seems like an awful lot. I mean look, the opening of the hotel… the awards and recognition… the advertisements…"

"But look here, Double Homicide 1953, Suicide 1956, another murder in 1959, and a missing person the next year. Clearly he's trying to validate the haunty-ness of the place."

"Sure, maybe," the shorter brunette hesitated to agreed, "but where's the flair? Where's the wall framed with this hotel's history of murder and mayhem. Where's the blood soaked warnings of "get out." This just seems too subtle for Chris."

"The 5th floor."

"What?" Cody pursed his lip at her enigmatic response.

"The murder and mayhem is on the fifth floor," Sierra confirmed, pointing to the Double Homicide article of 1953. "This is the first murder story in October of 1953, a member of the staff and a civilian were murdered while another employee went missing. Authorities arrest the brother of the missing employee, suspecting the both of them to be involved. She was a maid… well of course, everyone knows the maid did it."

"I thought it was the butler," Cody offered to the popular murder cliché.

Sierra thoughtfully considered his suggestion than responds with delighted but obnoxious laughter. Gradually, he backs away from his overly enthusiastic teammate, stepping cautiously to not trip in the dimly lit hall. Sierra's merriment is abruptly cut short when a seashell shaped scone light pops and bursts nearby. Frowns etch into their faces as they listen when the next light sparks and shatters closer still, than another and another. The duo quickly clutch onto one another as an icy cold breeze snakes down the hall of the second floor.

On the next floor above, Heather inched her way around the corner of the hall, wary of another contestant getting the jump on her. Relief followed when all that hide behind the corner was another vacant hall. Strangely she found herself a little disappointed with the lack of action in her hunt. Despite the threat of "zombie interns", treacherous cast mates, an enticing cash prize and Chris's flair for the dramatic Heather herself felt rather 'unchallenged'.

Stepping towards a nook in the wall, Heather examined a treasure chest like icebox with the rusty scooper and bottle of gin laying beside it. She ran her fingers along the opening before lifting it up in hopes that there was truly wealth within. The snobbish teen immediately let the lid close when all she spotted was leaves, rubbish and a pair of dead mice. Her lips sneered as she turned away from the rodent's coffin, grumbling her distaste for Chris. Her red wedge heels were about to continue the hallway when a realization struck her raven colored head.

"I hate you Chris," she spoke to the air before whirling back to the ice chest and flipping it open again. Within the box, under some leaves and paper was a bright copper colored Derringer and a collection of 2 metallic blue paintball shells. Her tiny nose turned up slightly as she examined the two carcasses lying close by. With a resolved sigh she reached in to collect the goods, chanting a mantra of "I hate you!"

Finally she shot upright, letting the lid slam down again as she held her prize triumphantly. Cackling to herself, Heather stuffed the balls into her short pockets and the weapon into her waistband. Fate was obviously smiling down on this lucky soul today, giving her advantage over the rest of the players.

The Queen Bee walked with a spring in her step as she approached a room she hadn't explored, room 303. Her strides were brisk as she entered, pausing as her dark eyes caught view of a desk and chair in the corner. Seated on that chair was an unfamiliar young woman dressed in a tattered plum and pink swing dress. Her cheeks appeared gaunt, lips a colorless blue and her once vibrant red locks were caked in grim and blood. However, while this mystery girl's appearance was disconcerting, what made Heather audibly gasp was the foul creature kneeling at her side.

It's skin was a pasty green, it's teeth sharp and yellow, clothes torn and dirtied, and it's hair all but gone. A low growl rumbled from the things throat as it eyed Heather like a starving man eyed food. She backpedaled slowly but surely as her rosy lips mouthed, "Ezekiel."

The red head cracked her head sharply to the side, a dead look on her face, but an electric spark in her green eyes. A slight smile formed and disappeared as she spoke in a gravely ton, "Kill."

At that command Ezekiel lunged forwards and Heather hastily darted back into the hallway. With practiced grace and speed she rounded the corner and raced through the corridor. Behind her she heard a loud smack and scuffle of flesh and bone as the inhuman boy crashed into the wall. Fortunately the boy, running on all fours, couldn't turn on a dime like she could, but he was also resilient. Heather screamed as she ran, arms outstretched as the thing called "Ezekiel" continued chase, grunting and slobbering after her. It retrospect, it turned out this game was pretty challenging after all.

Somewhere, on the fifth floor, a horrible gnawing and smacking echoed from within one of the first rooms on the level. A shadow passes along the tattered brown wall, meticulously drawing closer to the wet sounds. A feminine moan creeps out from behind the ajar door of room 506, causing the shadow to linger.

"Mmm, love you so much Bridge," a male voice proclaims, causing the shadow to visibly shutter at the sound. Bridgett hungrily answers, "me too" between kisses with her boyfriend. Both occupants are unaware that a lone figure lurks outside the room they'd taken refuge it. All notions of the challenge, time, location or danger are lost on these two, entangled within each other. Its any wonder how, above all their sloppy wet kisses that Bridgette was able to hear the door to room 506 slowly creak open.

"Geoff," the blonde alerted, pulling back from his affections.

"Mm, what is it babe?" he mumbled while kissing her exposed collarbone. His hold on around her waste is like iron as she tries to wiggle away, her attention now on the door she can hear but not see from her position on the king sized bed.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, eyes glued towards the entryway.

"Here what?"

"Apparently not," Bridgette sighed as she finally squirmed free, her left arm covering her bared chest while her right searched for her sweater. A frown crossed Geoff's face, his back turned towards the door as he watched her scramble to redress. He was about to argue that she was just being paranoid, falling into Chris' game, but hesitated when he saw the curious expression on his lady love's face. Her shoulders raised up as she watched like a terrified doe as a new figure lumber into the room. Her mouth moved but no words came out, but it was still enough to signal Geoff to turn around.

"Really?" erupted the voice of the interloper as he stared at the spectacle before him.

"Hey, I think I know him," Geoff dumbly claimed, right before the intern zombie lunged at the famous party boy.

Bridgette scrambled from the bed and screamed far too late, "Geoff look out!"

She watched in horror as the intern tugged and wrestled her boyfriend to the floor. Geoff's hand reached up, pushing the intern Luca's face to the side while he swatted feebly to keep the broader teen down. Bridgette gawked as Geoff around to crawl away, only to have Luca snatch up his wrist and use his own weight to pin the teen's arms behind his back. Both men glanced up at the half naked blonde, one with a desperate plea and the other a hungry stare.

"Babe! Save yourself!" Geoff begged, only to have his face pushed down into the carpet.

"No! I can't leave you!" she cried over dramatically, even though she'd managed to maneuver herself even closer to the exit.

"Forget about me Bridge!" Geoff's floor muffled voice begged, "Live another day!"

"Hun?" she blinked, leaning down to hear her boyfriend better. The intern, Luca blinked as well, staring intently at her barely covered cleavage as she bent over.

"I said, run away," Geoff tried again, his blue eyes straining to see her.

"Oh, right, I knew that," she laughed, about to stand upright again, when a strong hand snatched her wrist. Bridgette gasped as Luca held her arm tightly and frowned, "You guys make this way too easy."

After allowing a moment for the couple to redress themselves and a call to Chris McClean, Bridgette and Geoff were escorted back downstairs, the next eliminations in the game.


	5. Chapter 5

THE HOTEL WAWANAKWA: Part Five

Approximately two hours must have passed since ensemble of Total Drama had been first thrown into this nightmarish game. In that time no one had yet to find the hidden prize money, three contestants had been eliminated, and at least three interns were hunting their prey. The ground floor had become rather quiet in that time, Trent's team choosing to move up a floor after crossing paths with Noah and Eva twice. Team E-Scope was looking a little thin, missing two party members, but Noah had decided it was better that way. Brains and muscle, he and Eva were enough of a team to turn the whole hotel on its head.

Eva somehow must have heard the inner dialogue as she upturned a large vase, emptied it of debris, than let it smash to pieces on the tile below. Noah internally frowned, he didn't mean for her to literally turn the place upside-down.

"Eva," he gestured with his hands, "Calm down."

"I am calm!" she snapped back, stomping back towards the lobby.

"Right," Noah rolled his eyes, calmly trailing after her.

"This is pointless and dumb!"

"Generally," Noah nodded, watching Eva plop heavily down on the cover sofa. Her weight pulled down the sheet enough to reveal the elegantly curve sofa upholstered is warm grey sateen. In its heyday, this hotel must have been a gorgeous establishment. Art Deco design accented the walls in welcoming tones of orange, cream and gold. Many of the pieces that still remained must hold great value, but were instead left to waste and rot.

"We've only covered two floors and everyone else is way ahead of us!" Eva burst, sinking further into the seat. Sighing, Noah sat too, leaving the middle cushion free between them. Folding his hands together he willfully gathered his thoughts, staring forward when he spoke, "Even if they cover more ground, that doesn't mean they'll find it first. We have to think like Chris, be sneaky and devious and underhanded…"

"And a jackass?" Eva smirked ever so slightly before her mouth fell back into a frown.

"Yes, a jackass. Now if I were a jackass," Noah smirked coyly, "Where would I hide a million dollar case?"

Eva's broad shoulders shrugged half heartedly but she still offered suggestions, "The basement… in the pool… in the Jacuzzi of the most obnoxiously large suite in the hotel… in a stove… at the checkout with the other luggage…"

"Wait," Noah's eyes locked on the female athlete, gripping her shoulders in anticipation. Her amber eyes stared back, somewhere between annoyed, angry and surprised. In unison both teens got up from their seat and nearly fell over one another to scramble to the reception desk.

Right there, in plain site was a worn carpet bag and a suitcase leaning against the side of the desk. Eagerly the two ripped open a bag each only to find some spare change in the carpet bag. Noah opened his mouth to say something but instead a much higher and familiar voice interrupted, "That's so sad."

"Izzy?" Eva and Noah questioned as they leaned over the reception desk to spy their missing team mates. Owen was curled up in a little ball covering his head with his hands, still hiding from something. Izzy however was sitting cross-legged, animatedly holding a conversation with herself. The arrival of her missing teammates didn't go unnoticed as she tilted her head back to smile widely at the pair, "Oh, there you guys are."

"There we are?" Noah scoffed while Eva glared, "You're the two scaredy cats that took off on us. By the way, there was no body in the basement, it was just a trick."

"Oh I know," she responded plainly as she twisted her position to face them more comfortably. Eva looked ready to smack her, "Then why'd you run away?"

"I was caught up in the moment, I guess," she shrugged, rotating herself around on her rear again and speak to the air in front of her, "So, where were we?"

Gritting her teeth and pulling back, Eva nearly lunged over the desk to pummel the loopy red-head before Noah latched onto her arm. The scrawny teen practically had to dangle from her curled bicep just to have an ounce of strength against her, "She's not worth it!"

"But I want to hit something," Eva protested while Izzy laughed out loud to her invisible conversation partner. Noah desperately pulled down on her arm once more as her nostrils flared in anger.

"Don't be silly. He can't hurt you if you're already dead." Izzy chuckled to herself before straightening her expression, "Or is that offensive to you. I should say living impaired."

Rounding the desk with his face buried in his palm, Noah groaned loudly, "What the hell are you doing Izzy?"

"Talking obviously."

"To whom? There's no one there," he emphasized by waving his hand over where she was supposedly "talking" to someone. Her expression grew hurt and serious as she stood eye level with the bookworm. Izzy snatched his wrist and forced it back to his side before defending, "You're being rude. How'd you like it if someone waved their hand in your face?"

"There's no one there, just your crazy imaginary friend!"

"She's not imaginary… she's a ghost… I mean living impaired," Izzy explained as if it were obvious. Noah face palmed again, on the verge of a breakdown himself. Although Izzy saying that she was talking to a ghost did make some semblance of sense, as Owen was cowering on the floor. The red-head herself was predisposed to add fuel to the flame when it came to Chris' outlandish ideas, increasing her own entertainment as well. Owen, the big loveable lug, was a bit naïve and tended to believe anything the energetic Izzy feed him.

Resigning them as a lost cause, Noah lay down his last two cents on Izzy's imaginary ghost friend, "There are no such things as ghosts. Let's go Eva, leave these two knuckleheads here and…"

Glancing at the now empty floor space where he was sure Eva once stood, Noah nearly fell over when he'd saw she was a good 20 feet away. Backpedaling towards the exit, she never took her eyes off her teammates as she put distance between them. Her stance was rigid; she was definitely struggling between fight or flight. There was a good chance that with some added adrenaline, she could probably knock down the large oak front doors of the hotel.

"Not you too," moaned the slender bookworm.

"That's not good," Izzy commented to her invisible ghost friend.

"What's not good?" Noah reluctantly humored.

"It's him. He's angry. He's about to do something."

"Okay? Who? What? Where?"

It was decided out of fairness that since Katie found the paintball gun, that she had the right to carry it. If it was a condition of skill, Beth was probably the most qualified, but for their team, it was all a matter of fairness. Besides the tall girl seemed to have a sense of pride and duty as she wielded the brightly colored toy weapon. As they approached each new guest room, Tyler would open the door and Katie would swing in from around the frame, locked and loaded. Confidence shown throughout the whole team, believing they were doing well and had the upper hand in the game.

Katie stood proudly at the door frame of one of the last three rooms yet to be checked on the third floor. She diligently scanned the hallway for any sign of rivals or ghosts… though she didn't really know what to do if she saw a ghost. Inside Tyler was attempting to upturn a mattress from the bed, Beth offered to help him seeing as he was struggling. Lindsay casually opened another empty dresser drawer, pursing her lips in disappointment. The next drawer below troubles her even more as she pulls the knob clean off of the face.

"Oh," she whined, stumbling back in her high heel boots. Studying her hand, she sees that she's broken a nail trying to pry open the stubborn drawer. Examining the crack, she calls out to her boyfriend Tyler to come help her.

"Tyler's taking a break," Beth informed, furrowing her brow as she searched the upturned mattress. Lindsay pouts deeply as she turns back towards the offending furniture.

"Let me help you Lindsay," Sadie brightly offered, producing a nail clipper for the blond and turning to attempt to pry the drawer open with her own fingers. Dutifully the blonde turned to repairing her broken nail, perching on top of the dresser and complaining, "This is hard work."

Outside of the room, Katie absently began to twirl her fingers through her left pigtail. She was vaguely easing dropping on her team before she remembered that she needed to pay attention to the things outside of the room. Focusing ahead she squared her shoulders and saluted to no one in particular. It only took a few moments for her posture to slouch over again and her fingers find her hair to twist and turn.

"Slut," Katie gasped and perked up as the words whispered into her ears. Her eyes searched the corridor than she turned back to see if anyone was behind her. Everything seemed in place and the bubbly sweet girl just shook it off as her imagination.

"Slut," the disembodied voice spoke again, more clearly than before followed by a feeling of someone brushing the back of her neck. Katie jerked, hobbling out into the hallway to whirl around and face her tormentor. Her perky pink lips began to shout out, but she hesitated when she saw nothing but the door frame.

Her tanned fingers curled protectively around the shotgun she'd procured, eyes searching up, down, left and right for the person who was speaking to her. Her heart thumped erratically, trapped within her chest. The hall seemed to be growing dimmer by the second, the air much colder and Katie was feeling all too claustrophobic.

"Slut," the masculine whisper called her again, and she felt ice cold fingers run across her spin. Turning again the girl found herself face to face with Tyler, her fear quickly morphing into anger, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he growled, lowly with an emotionless stare. He took a step forwards, causing Katie to respond by stepping back, "Do you think I'm blind. I see the way you whore yourself around, the way you look at other men."

"I…" her words faltered, seeing the look it his eyes, the venom dripping from his tongue. This was so unlike Tyler, while enthusiastic and full of bravado, he was considered by most to be relatively harmless. "You can't… talk to me like that."

Suddenly a loud crack echoed through the corridor as Tyler's hand lashed out to backhand the slender girl's cheek. The commotion drew out remaining girls from the room just in time to witness the strike.

"Katie!"

"Tyler!"

"What's going on?"

Katie quickly reached up to touch her sore cheek, tears already spilling from her eyes. The trio of girls immediately at her side as she looked up at Tyler, who didn't even seem to mind the other's presence.

"I thought we could have something. But no, a fast piece of work like you," Tyler abruptly wrenched one of Katie's pigtails. Violently she was pulled forwards, the bright pink pom-pom in her hair ripping free as she yelped in pain. Inertia sent her slamming into the opposite wall, with Tyler quick to turn on her. Time seemed to slow down as he stepped, Lindsay gently holding his arm, but him brushing her off like she was nothing. Beth seemed to be running towards her, while Sadie wrung her hands together in anticipation. His hand was outstretched, aiming right for her neck as he intending to choke the life from her lungs.

In that moment of frozen time, with the once gentle Tyler looming menacingly overhead, Katie had a moment of clarity. She turned her paintball gun towards him and fired, paint striking his outstretched arm in splash of green. The red suited jock reeled back, and she fired again, hitting him in the shoulder. A third shot fired hitting him right in the groin and with a painful moan, Tyler tumbled over. Her opponent floored, Katie choked out a strangled cry as she turned the gun over and used the butt end as a bat. With a mighty swing she cracked it over his head, certainly knocking him out from the blow. Just before she reeled back for another strike, Beth and Sadie threw their arms around her, wrestling the gun free and begging her to stop.

"Katie! Katie!" Sadie sobbed, hugging her friend as tightly as she could. They were sobbing and trembling while Beth examined the carnage of the hall. Lindsay gingerly felt the lump forming on the side of Tyler's head, softly cooing over him. It wasn't the first traumatic blow to the head the teen had endured, probably not the last, but he would live through it.

"I," Katie began through trembling lips. The girls gave her rapt attention as she tried to speak, staring vacantly towards at the room they'd last examined, "I don't like this game anymore."

The girls followed her line of sight to the now closed door of the room. They were entranced as the once white washed door turned red as words were cut into the surface. The letters wept blood, repeating the same word over and over again: slut.

For lack of better description, the first floor was turning out to be a total bust for Trent, DJ, Leshawna and Harold. Eleven rooms later and all they'd discovered was a shoe, a thread worn robe, a couple of vintage magazines, a bible and an old brass key. Harold browsed the through one of the magazines as they walked, amusing himself with outdated articles and advertisements from the seventies. DJ was on pins and needles ever since they'd gotten to the floor, passing by a message reading, "Keep out." He was assured by both Trent and Leshawna that it was nothing but paint and to stop being such a baby. If experience taught anyone anything, it was that DJ was the biggest baby of them all.

Every time a shadow shifted, it was all they could do to reel him back in that there was nothing to be scared off. It was quit ironic when the other three nearly jumped out of their skin at the sound of groaning and moaning from behind them.

"Unnal kad un uu oo un amiaded." a soft voice slobbered and mumbled. DJ of course shrieked like a girl, jumping behind Harold, who had slithered behind Leshawna and she had stepped non to casually behind Trent. The quartet looked down to see the familiar little girl from earlier in the night, a box of Oreo cookies in her hands that she was greedily munching away one.

"Come again?" Leshawna asked, stepping away from the collection of cowards.

"I said," Cleo swallowed hard, pounding her chest lightly as she gulped, "Uncle Chef said another one of you maggots got eliminated. It was epic."

"Sounds like Chef," the heavy woman agreed. Cleo continued past the teens, finding another cookie to consume.

"Aren't you, y'know supposed to be a zombie chasing us?" Harold questioned her, receiving a quick elbow to the gut from Leshawna. Cleo cocks her head to the side curiously before turning around with a devilish smile, "I wonder."

Sweat beads ran down their temples, awaiting her next move, but instead she returned to eating cookies and walking away. The group smiled in relief as she distanced herself from them. The scavenger hunt for the money could continue without an elimination by little zombie girl. Abruptly a retching cry was whimpered from the little girl. Her tiny hand flew up to cover her mouth as she dropped to her knees.

Surprisingly it was DJ who ran to her aid first, "Hey! Are you sick?"

Cleo whimpered some more, glancing up at the gentle giant before spewing up blood that trickled through her fingertips. Leshawna cringed at the sight, "That ain't normal sick."

DJ placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder assuring, "Don't worry. We'll take you back down to the lobby and call a doctor."

The child remained still for a moment before she again threw up blood all over DJ's calves. Disgusted but still concerned, he stood up to announce to his team that he would be escorting the young girl back to the lobby. Harold raised his finger up as if to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words he wanted. Leshawna's expression changed from worried to annoyed as her shoulders dropped down in defeat. It was Trent who finally announced to all that, "You've just been had by a 9 year old girl."

"What?" DJ questioned before he looked down to where she'd been kneeling as she looked up and smiled with red stained teeth. He would have backed away from her if it wasn't for the fact that she'd expediently tied his ankles together with a collection of shoelaces. He teetered back and forth while Cleo scampered out of the way before he landed face first into the floor.

Smiling in triumph, Cleo began to excessively celebrate through dance in front of her catch. Her small voice chanted over and over, "I win! I win!" The other cast mates just watched dumfounded at how the smallest person there, single handedly captured the biggest member of their party. That feeling of dread suddenly filled the pits of their stomachs again as she abruptly stopped her flaunting and stared them down with scheming eyes. In a heartbeat Harold, Trent and Leshawna took off full speed in the opposite direction.

On the second floor, the distinct chime of an elevator lift resonated down the corridors. The sound of the shaft doors opening for a moment alighting the hallway in a bright yellow glare. After a few seconds, the doors resealed and the ding chimed again, the mechanical melody playing endlessly.

Two contestants crept down the hallway on tiptoes, backs pressed to the wall as they approached the chiming sound. A plum colored head poked around the corner warily, than whispered a little too loudly to her partner, "There's no one there."

"That's… that's bad, right?" Cody's clear blue eyes chanced as glance as the elevator continued to open and close of its own accord, "But it doesn't mean it's haunted, right? It's just faulty engineering, right?"

Sierra helplessly shrugged before craning her neck around the corner again. Her breath hitched in her throat as she focused on the doors jerk open once more and she noticed a shadow cast on the back wall. She eagerly turned to announce her discovery to her partner when another figure caught her attention.

The familiar brunette C.I.T. entered into view, purposefully heading towards the elevator. Sierra quickly revealed herself from the corner, surprising Cody who soon noticed their fellow cast member too. Cheerfully Sierra threw her arm into the air, "Courtney!"

The brunette however didn't responded, lost in her own thoughts as she reached down the press the call button. As the doors slide open, the pair quickly moved towards the silent teen. Courtney entered, never flinching as they repeated her name over and over again. The duo paused in front of the elevator door, awaiting it to cycle open again, but this time the doors remained shut, the needle moving over towards five.

Impatiently a finger pressed down on the call button, cursing that it was taking far too long. Gwen leaned back against the wall, knowing that an old elevator system like this would take some time to reach each floor. The fifth floor had turned out to be a lost cause for Duncan and Gwen, but that didn't mean the other floors would be. Duncan found a locked stairwell leading up to the penthouse suites, but despite his best efforts he couldn't pick or pry that door open.

Certainly the pair deduced that the elevator went to the top too, it was just a matter of convincing it to take them there. It seemed so obvious that the money was hidden on the ritziest floor the hotel had to offer. It was also likely that Chris and Chef were hiding up there as well. If the elevator plan didn't work than Duncan suggested they find an axe and chop the door down. Plan C was to climb the elevator shaft from within and force the door open on the top. Gwen never voiced an agreement to that final plan.

A repetitive ding announced the arrival of the carriage at last, both teens eagerly anticipating the doors sliding open. The chime continued to repeat without the doors opening and Duncan exclaimed in frustration, "What the hell?"

"We should probably look for that axe." Gwen smiled helpfully, turning to head for the stairs. A moment after they turned away, the doors finally creaked open. Quickly the pair turned toward the lift, surprised to see a familiar standing within.

The arrival to her floor didn't draw her attention, nor did the clearing of a throat from outside. She seemed focused on the keypad ahead directly in her sight. Her bronzed fingers running absently over a keyhole, meticulously feeling every edge and curve of the surface.

"Courtney?" Gwen summons her attention and slowly the C.I.T. looks up. The rims of her eyes are watery, her face tired and hair tousled. Her lips is swollen red and her cheek is discoloring quickly from the invisible assault she'd suffered earlier. Carefully she steps out of the elevator, looking at the pair but not really seeing either of them. Callously Duncan speaks first, "You look like hell."

Immediately Gwen scoffs him, unaware of the smile playing on Courtney's bloodied lips. She plays with the waistband behind her back, caressing the cool metal revolver concealed beneath her layers of clothes. Fingers begin to curl around the hilt and she smiles coldly, "Really, because I feel like heaven right now."


End file.
